Brevet blanc…and mind gone blank
In France the first important school exam is the brevet, which takes place at the end of years in college – that is, when children are about 14 years old.
As part of the run-up to the actual exam, which is in June, two ‘brevet blancs’ are held – essentially practice runs at the exam. Our eldest daughter is currently sitting the second of these
She is calmer than us about such things, and claims that she is the only person she knows who is working for these exams (under our iron rule), while everyone else takes things as they come. She is probably right to some extent. It is a largely agricultural community around here, and the ‘work hard at school’ idea sometimes takes second place to the ‘who cares, you’re going to be a farmer’ idea.
Not for everyone of course but it does sometimes leave us wondering how well prepared they will be when up against sophisticated and intelligent city kids. Hopefully the advantage of being bilingual outweighs the disadvantage – that was the principle when we came, at least. I’m pretty confident that lycée next year will be more work-focussed so we’re not overly concerned for the moment.
I have a different problem – I am completely rubbish at remembering names and faces! Often this doesn’t matter although people think I’m being rude more often than I intend to be.
But today because the brevet blanc finished quite early I had to go into the school to sign the book authorising her to leave early. This isn’t a problem, except it involves crossing the school playground.
Now, many of these children have been to our house, quite possibly stayed here a few times. But do I remember them? Of course not, I barely remember my own children’s names. Which wouldn’t matter, except this being France I am supposed to ‘faire la bise’ (kiss on both cheeks) everybody I’ve ever meet, adults and children alike. This includes school playground encounters.
(Can you imagine that in the UK? Every teenage lad you know coming up to shake hands and every girl coming over to kiss your cheeks?)
To ignore someone appears very rude. So I appear very rude. In the course of five minutes I imagine I offended at least half a dozen people, and families gathered around dinner tables across the region tonight will be shocked by tales of my rudeness.
I barely dare leave the house tomorrow for fear of being lynched.
Same here – crossing the playground takes ages! Trouble is, local to us, teenage boys still ‘faire la bise’ with adult males until they are approaching eighteen years old.
Our daughters have made it very plain to their male school friends that trying this with Richard might seriously damage their health. They now approach with their right arm out straight, their hand ready to ‘shake’ – and a look of fear on their faces!
Sure! This is because French males are all faggots, remember?
Duh! You guys are so sickening. Oozing with clichés qui dépassent les limites de l’entendement. It’s afflicting of stupidity.
Most boys quit kissing on the cheeks older men when they turn 12. They only remain “kissy” with their close male relatives, and this will last for the rest of their life. I’m 31 and I still “fais la bise” to my father, brothers, cousins, and uncles.
Believe me, you’d rather be worried about what these French boys do to your daughters behind the barn. The danger ain’t nested in their way to greet the old man… Ask your girls. Surely they already know what the verb “plotter” means in French.
Yann, I think you’ve misunderstood this post. It is self-mockery (British humour again, sorry!) of my own shortcomings, not a suggestion that because two adult males ‘faire la bise’ that make all French males gay. The point was simply that in the UK everyone always keeps their distance, in France they don’t. Which takes some getting used to for us.